The
manager of Anomaly, one of London's classiest brothels didn't
answer. Nick frowned, stepping completely into the office. Empty.
Utterly empty. Not even a file in sight. Helen wasn't normally that
clean. The former employee turned second in charge glanced around the
room, then turned to head back out again. He made it to the door,
then froze. Helen was not normally that clean. Ever.

Nick
rushed back into the room, "Helen, what have you done?" he sifted
almost frantically through the desk and surrounding cabinets.

Then he
found it. An envelope was sitting on the top of the small cabinet,
propped up against the decorative candle bowl that Helen insisted he
buy for her because it would 'bring some colour and femininity to
the room.' Nick hated the thing and Helen knew it. He scowled,
reaching for it. He opened it roughly, yanking the contents out,
muttering vulgarly under his breath as only a whore can.

Time
seemed to stop as Nick read the contents of the envelope, "Oh Lord…
Helen…"

Nick sat
down hard on the floor, staring at the papers in his hand
disbelievingly. The contents of the papers were like a train wreck.
Every so often he would shake his head, utterly stunned. That was how
Stephen Hart found him, close to two hours later, when he stuck his
head round the door, cheerfully asking about the whereabouts of his
leather pants.

Stephen
frowned when Nick didn't answer. He took a step into the office.
Then he swore, seeing Nick pale faced and stricken on the floor of
his office. Stephen dropped to his knees next to Nick, grabbing his
shoulders and calling his name. Nick turned stunned eyes up to meet
Stephen's, then blinked, slowly coming back to himself.

"Get the
others," was all he said.

Stephen
didn't ask stupid questions, he didn't demand to know answers, he
simply willowed to his feet and walked out. He returned not ten
minutes later with a bunch of very confused whores, his co-workers,
trailing in his wake.

"What's
the bitch done now?" Tom Ryan, ever blunt and collectively known by
his last name, sighed.

Nick
handed the letter off to Stephen, mumbling into one hand, "Please?
I can't look at it anymore…"

Stephen's
eyes softened and he nodded, "Course…"

He cleared
his throat and began to read…

"Dearest
Nick,

That's a
laugh isn't it? Been a long time since I've been your dear
anything. And don't ever assume for a moment that you were my dear
anything except for a dearly good fuck…" Stephen barely resisted
the urge to wince, "Don't bother looking for me. You won't find
me. Helen Cutter doesn't exist anymore. The divorce papers are
straight after this letter. They don't even need your signature,
seeing as how you're nothing but a whore. My lawyer appealed to the
judge."

"Fucking
bitch!" Ryan seethed.

"But
that's rather irrelevant. What this really boils down to is money.
I want it. I don't want you to have it. So since I don't need
your signature… well, you are a relatively smart man for a whore.
I'm sure you can work it out. Have fun trying to pay off the
property.

Helen

P.S. Don't
take it as a sign of generosity that I'm leaving you with the
property. The title is in your name, otherwise you'd be turfed out
on your arse to walk the streets where I found you."

"Christ…"
Connor breathed, face a little pale.

Stephen
flicked through the sheaf of papers that came with the letter,
"Bloody hell… she has… she's gone and done it," he
breathed, looking back up at the small group in front of him.

Nick
finally looked up, "As you now all know, Helen has taken off with
all the money," his face was pained, "As of two days ago, Anomaly
has nothing. Less than nothing, Anomaly is now in 75,000 pounds worth
of debt."

"Seventy-five
grand!" Ryan all but squawked.

Nick
nodded, "But the others don't need to know that. They'll leave
in droves. And I need all the employees I can get."

"I'm
not Helen," Nick frowned, "I meant that if I'm not going to go
arse up because of what Helen did, then I need you guys to back me…
all of you."

Connor
nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes, "We're the high
earners here. One of us goes, the income drops. Income drops,
likelihood of ever gettin' this place debt free drops," he looked
over at Nick, "I'm in. But," he added, "I don't have to
take on weird creepy clients, do I?"

"No,"
Nick shook his head firmly, "Same set up as before. You don't
take on anyone you don't want to," he looked at Ryan and Stephen.

"No need
to ask, Nick, I'm in," Ryan gave Nick a small smile.

"With
you all the way, mate," Stephen shot Nick a warm smile that made
Connor and Ryan hide smirks under their hands.

"Thank
you," Nick said, looking at them all.

Ryan
uncurled himself from the chair, "Now that we're done with the
Hallmark moments," he rolled his shoulders and arched his back so
it popped, "I have a client in twenty minutes."

Connor
glanced over at him, "Regular?"

"No…"
Ryan's handsome face creased in a frown, "New one. He seemed
alright when I met him though."

Connor
nodded slowly, a slight frown on his own face, "Be careful," he
said earnestly, making Nick and Stephen hide smirks under their
hands.

Ryan
smiled at Connor, "Easy Conn," he gestured to his abs, "I'm
the big military type remember?"

Connor
didn't blush, he was too good at his job for that, but it was a
close thing. He nodded. Ryan gave him another warm smile and left.
Connor watched him until the door swung shut behind him and Ryan was
gone. Then he became aware of soft chuckles behind him. He turned to
see Stephen snickering quietly into his hand. He shot him a scowl.

"Oh shut
up," this time he did blush.

Nick
sobered first, looking between Stephen and Connor, "Do either of
you have clients to get to?"

Both shook
their heads, Connor adding, "I have the room once Ryan's
finished. And he's booked for two hours, so I'll need to bugger
off in a little over an hour… But up til then, I'm all yours."

Nick
nodded, "I'll let Ryan know when he's done, but," he looked
at Stephen and Connor, "I'm thinkin' of gettin' back into the
business."

Stephen
and Connor both stared, "You what?" their voices were almost
comically in unison.

Nick
looked affronted, "I was goin' to get back into the business…"
his affronted look shifted into a look of insecurity, "What?"

"You
haven't been in the business for eight years, Nick," Stephen said
quietly.

"I know,
but after what Helen's done, we need all the income we can get,"
Nick argued.

"Yeah…"
Connor looked at him, raising an eyebrow, "But eight years…"

Nick
frowned a little, mouth twisting, "You don't think I can do it?"

Stephen
held up a placating hand, "It's not that. We don't think you
should. You'll be running the business end of things. You don't
need to be worrying about whether the rent's up to date while
you're giving a client a blowjob," he finished frankly.

Connor
snorted, then his eyes suddenly lit up, "Mrs Ainesberry!" he said
with no apparent warning or reference to anything.

Nick and
Stephen both blinked, "Eh?"

"Mrs
Ainesberry… you know, the dear old duck… filthy rich… she calls
us up for company when she goes shopping and to the movies," Connor
glanced between the two.

Stephen
caught on, "Doesn't ask for anything except someone to talk to
and a hand with her shopping bags?"

Connor
nodded, grinning happily, "There's about four others like her,"
he raised an eyebrow at Stephen and Nick.

Nick
wrinkled his nose, "You want me to be a home companion?" he
complained.

"If
you're a home companion you can let your mind wander, it's not
necessary to be wholly focused on the client the entire time,"
Connor said, making Stephen raise an eyebrow at him, "What? I get
most of the home companion jobs. They like me, think I'm cute."

Stephen
leaned over and pinched a cheek, making Connor smack at his hand,
"You are cute, mate. But seriously now, Nick, Connor's right."

Nick
raised an eyebrow, "You think I'm cute enough to be a home
companion?"

Stephen
fought to control his own blush, making Connor smirk into his hand
before answering, "You don't have to be cute, Nick. You just have
to be polite and smile at them. Make them feel like they're
important. It's why they call," Connor's eyes turned genuinely
sympathetic, "They can't find anyone else. They know that when we
come, they'll feel like they're the centre of someone's
universe, even if it's only for a few hours a week."

Nick
blinked at Connor, "When did you get so bloody philosophical?" he
shook his head, "Fine, fine. I'll take the home companion jobs."

"Not Mrs
Fincher," Connor said instantly, "I like her, we got along great.
But Mr Davis, Mrs Ainesberry, Mrs Walsh and Mr Emmet you can have."

Connor
looked at him, "Normally these clients are nervous, embarrassed and
more than a little angry with their parents for sending them here.
These people, boys and girls, are quite often being pressed into
society marriages. And contrary to popular belief, they really don't
want virgins anymore."

Nick
blanched a little at that, "So they send them here to break them
in? That's a bit callous."

Stephen
nodded, "Which is why Connor takes those jobs," he threw Connor a
small smile, "I may tease him about it, but he's the only one out
of the high rollers who has the patience and the empathy to deal with
them."

Connor
gave Stephen and Nick a tiny return smile, "And…" he carried
on, "If I want to make sure I treat Felicity nicely, I better go
now and get ready," he rolled his eyes a little, "Make sure the
room looks normal after Ryan's totalled it."

"Go,"
Nick waved a hand, "And thanks… Stephen and I will keep nutting
things out here."

Connor
nodded, fighting a giggle under his hand as he left. He went to his
private room, pulling out the file on Felicity Horsham and quickly
rereading it. He shook his head sadly. Poor thing, how could parents
do that to a kid? Putting the file back down, he flicked through his
wardrobe, trying to find a set of clothes that would make him look
less like a… well… a whore, and more like a friendly person.

"A
friendly person your parents are paying to have sex with you," he
told his mirror flatly, then sighed, pulling his hair out of the tie
that held it away from his face and shaking his head.

His hair
fell into his eyes, so he pushed it away, playing with it til it
framed his face. Connor looked at himself in the mirror critically.
In a casual, dark green shirt with a white body shirt underneath and
dark jeans, he didn't look like a whore. He wrinkled his nose a
little and fiddled with his hair, pushing some behind his ears. Now,
he just looked like a grad student. This was good.

He looked
at the time. Good, he was doing well. Now, to see if Ryan had trashed
the room like he did last time. Connor left his room and headed down
the hall, blinking as he came across the closed door of the room Ryan
was using with his client. That Ryan should've been finished with
half an hour ago. Connor frowned a little. Ryan didn't normally
fall asleep and forget to leave. That was Stephen. It's why he had
his own room.

Connor was
suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding and dread. He flitted
around in front of the door. Knock, don't knock? He'd get in
trouble with Ryan, the client and Nick if he knocked and there was
nothing wrong. But if there was… Ryan… Connor's heart overruled
his head. To hell with it, he'd take the heat if it came down to
it. He rapped smartly on the door, waiting five seconds before
pushing the door open.

"Oh God…
Oh my God…"

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